upon a natural stone terrace, immediately under the beetling ledge that crowns the summit of the august rock seen from below, where we stood looking down a frightful precipice of seven hundred feet beneath us; with the grand hill and its ruined castle before us, and a stretch of country to the right. We now left the apartment, to return to the surface of the rock, but the wonders of this excavation were not yet exhausted. Passing through another dark subterraneous cavern, we suddenly found ourselves at the entrance of a small chapel, where the light of purple hue, or rather "darkness visible," will just allow the eye to distinguish an altar, and other appropriate appendages. Whilst contemplating these, a venerable figure, clothed in the stole of a Druid, slowly pacing from a dark recess in the apartment, crossed before us to the altar, made his obeisance, and departed; leaving us much surprised at, and almost ashamed of, the very singular impression which our minds could be made to experience, even from childish toys, if presented to them under particular circumstances. Quitting the grotto, we threaded the other mazes of this singular place, taking in the Hermitage, where a venerable figure is seen in a sitting posture, who (by means of a servant previously placed behind him) rises up as the stranger approaches;

asks questions; returns answers; and repeats poetry. Passing over the Pont de Suisse, a rude bridge (thrown across the gulph which separates the rocky mountain on which we had been hitherto engaged, from its sublime neighbour, where the view is extremely awful) we mounted the obelisk, erected on the highest point of the terrace, from whence is a view one hundred miles in diameter, with this beautiful singularity, that the eye is in no one direction lost in space, but every where meets with a resting-point in the beautiful belt of distant mountains that bound the horizon. Leaving this modern decoration, we crossed the park to a remain of antiquity; a noble example of Roman castrametation called Bury-Walls, one of the most perfect of the kind in Europe, containing about thirty acres within its mounds. Nature on three sides had sufficiently defended the spot, so that the Romans had only to cast up vallations on the remaining one. But this was done in their best style by three high mounds which rendered the place impregnable. Connected with military matters, though of a much later age, was the place we next visited a cavern in the tower glen, where an ancestor of the Hill family, who was unsuccessful in the service of Charles I. concealed himself for a time from the pursuit of the Parliamentarian forces.

An urn is placed near the cave, whose inscription recounts the circumstance of his concealment and its ill-success:

"Anno 1784, this was placed here by Sir RICHARD HILL, bart. (eldest son of Sir ROWLAND HILL, bart.) one of the Knights of the Shire, as a token of affection to the memory of his much-respected ancestor, ROWLAND HILL, of Hawkestone, esq; a gentleman remarkable for his great wisdom, piety, and charity; who, being a zealous Royalist, hid himself in this glen. in the civil wars, in the time of King Charles the First; but being discovered, was imprisoned in the adjacent castle, commonly called Red-Castle, whilst his house was pillaged and ransacted by the Rebels; the castle itself was soon afterwards demolished. His son,

Rowland Hill, esq; coming to his assistance, also suffered much in the same loyal cause.

"The above account, taken from Kimber's Baronetage, as also from the traditions of the family, holds forth to posterity the attachment of this ancient house to an unfortunate and much-injured Sovereign."

Leaving this retreat, we were conducted to another eminence of different character from the rocky hill we had visited. Here all was studied softness and ornament, trim decoration, and artificial beauty. The Elysian-Hill, as it is called, has to boast neat parterres, and clumps of exotics; with a menagerie in its neighbourhood, and a pretty cottage at the upper end inhabited by the woman taking care of

the poultry. It is furnished with a good collection of stuffed birds. The green-house is built in the Gothic style, and placed so as to take in a grand view of the adjoining superlatively fine scenery, which stretches beyond the peaceful pastoral picture in the front of the building.

A pleasing walk through Weston carried us from hence by a circuitous route to the delightfullysituated Inn, whence we had set out on our long but interesting expedition.

The grounds of Hawkestone are as singular as they are beautiful; consisting of a succession of hills and dales connected together in a very small space, in the midst of a charming extent of champaign level country, which stretches in every direction around them. The former (four in number) are bold and precipitous, of silicious sand-stone rock, which shews itself under different circumstances; sometimes in a broad uncovered face; at others, in white patches peeping through the trees. Nodding woods crown the summits, and chequer their slopes. The latter are narrow and deep, peaceful and sequestered, the very haunts of retirement and contemplation. Amid this beautiful scene of nature, a variety of artificial ornaments, as we have seen, are introduced; many of which, criticism might, perhaps, be tempted to call rather childish tricks

than judicious additions. But let us consider their effect in the spot before us, and see if that will not form some excuse for their introduction. The grandeur of the features of Hawkestone-Park, the majesty of its rocks, and the gloom of its groves, are all calculated to excite astonishment in the mind. Now this is an emotion which, being intense in its nature, is either soon exhausted, or if supported for any time, is supported with pain. To refresh or relieve the mind therefore, and thus keep alive the interest of the scenery, it should seem to have been necessary to introduce some objects calculated to call up less exhausting emotions; to relax this mental stretch; and to interrupt for an interval the associations of the mind, that it might return with renewed vigour and fresh delight to the more exalted feast of contemplative wonder. I know not whether I be right in my reasoning; but if not, I fear I have no other excuse to offer for the Druid, the Hermit, and the Dutch cottage.

We had to drag through the same sandy road for sixteen miles to Wellington, which, surrounded by founderies, and in the neighbourhood of iron mines and coal works, is rapidly rising to opulence and importance. One mile more brought us to the great Roman road, Watling-street; where (naturally alive only to impressions connected with an